


When Lightning Stuck Twice

by Auredosa



Category: Wizard101
Genre: Angst, Battle, Hurt No Comfort, Original Female Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:00:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23497144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auredosa/pseuds/Auredosa
Summary: A self-indulgent wizzy one-shot about two witches dueling.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 4





	When Lightning Stuck Twice

“A diviner will never strike the same spot twice,” Madame Falmea explained. “Those who practice storm magic are quick to give it their all in one, often hasty, attack, whereas pyromancers are focused, never letting a flame turn into a wildfire.”

Annalise nodded at each word. She simply didn’t understand those who whined that diviners were the most powerful wizards in the Spiral. It was just like how the odd dog-man visiting from Marleybone had said; “Everything that holds power has checks and balances.” As long as she could keep her opponent distracted, she would have no problem taking down anyone, diviner or not, in the arena!

 _It’s always simpler than everyone thinks_ , she mused. _What you study can’t possibly get you that far-nothing can replace real skill._

“No matter your opponent’s school, or how frightening they may try to appear, the fact remains; all attacks can be evaded, even if your foe is ‘as fast as lightning.’” On cue, the ring of the dueling dole bell pierced the room.

“Go then, and remember, a passionate flame is seldom snuffed out!”

With those words engraved into her memory, Annalise left for the Ravenwood training arena, with her head held high at the dark clouds looming overhead.

“And our last pair for today’s one-versus-one duels, Zickwich, and-” Professor Benwick skipped a beat before reading aloud her dueling partner.

“Zickwich and Dominique.”

An excited roar roe from the remaining wizards who would be observing the duels today. Annalise walked towards the last empty glowing circle, when suddenly a cold drop landed on her nose. The air became thick to breathe in and stuck in her throat. The clouds gave way to a light sprinkle, and the sky’s low grumbling rolled beyond the brick walls of the arena.

“Oh my, I had hoped we could get through today’s doling before this deluge. . .” Professor Benwicker sighed with a note of disdain. Irritated at the torturous water dripping down his neck, Professor Drake stepped forward.

“Well then, students, back to your previous classes.” He scoffed with an idea of a perfect afternoon. “I suppose we shall hold a period of studying for the remainder of the school day-”

“No matter!”

Everyone turned to see a familiar witch adjusting her jeweled purple hat. Her violent magenta dress seemed to deflect every drop of precipitation that fell on her. Amused that she actually got their attention, Ophisa Dominque beamed towards the faculty members.

“A good wizard should be able to duel whenever and wherever, right?” She stepped across the dewy grass towards Annalise, long brown boots staying perfectly dry. “I don’t think we need to cancel today’s dueling dole.”

How can one person be so bold? And in front of everyone and all the teachers, too? Annalise looked back to the stage where Professor Bernwicker and Drake were arguing whether to carry on with the dole, with the latter casting a curious yet cross look at Ophisa. She was gazing at the grey blanket above, nostrils flaring at the humidity in the air.

 _I guess I should be thanking her,_ Annalise admitted. _If she hadn’t piqued up, I wouldn’t be able to prove everyone wrong about storm wizards being the best at this academy._

“I think she’s right, Professor Drake.” Ophisa turned, unsurprised that she matched her in spirit and competitiveness. Annalise retorted with her own fiery gaze. “Fighting when one school supposedly has the upper hand,” she explained, tilting her head, “could teach us that anyone can turn the tides and win.”

The other students began to agree, urging to let the dueling commence. The diviners in the field stood their ground, unfazed by her subtle taunt. They couldn’t resist being provoked in their own element. She heard Ophisa chuckling, her own peers shouting words of encouragement in her direction.

“The weather’s in our favor, Ophisa!” “Can’t you feel it in the air? There’s no way you can lose!”

 _Yes, there is._ Annalise lips twitched to shout back. _You aren’t invincible; you’re just a student here, same as the rest of us._ She took a deep breath and forced herself to remain indifferent, straightening her mouth into a flat line. _We’re_ going _to duel; and I’ll show everyone that you aren’t as good as you think._

Suddenly, Professor Baelstrom hopped onto the wooden stage, jumping in front of Benwicker and Drake.

“A fine observation, you two! Yes, let us go through with today’s dueling. Quite the learning experience this will be, I think!” He leaped down and motioned for the wizards to assume their battle positions, waving away the ones not in combat. Drake and Bernwicker gave Professor Baelstrom a defeated look as the toadstool splashed his webbed feet in the forming puddles.

 _A happy frog in the rain._ Another crash of thunder boomed in her ears, and her head began to pound. Shoes and boots squished across the muddying ground. A line of students stood by to watch the two best witches at Ravenwood duke it out.

“Now then, without further ado, let the dueling commence!”

First, Annalise saw the lightning, a sharp bolt that ached to look at. Then, she heard the thunder.

The dirt beneath her feet began to shake against her boot soles. To her right, a girl in a glimpse of green shrieked, mouth gaping open at the destruction to come. Mounds of softened earth broke and Annalise looked up to see the chiseled amethyst on the tip of Ophisa’s wand pointing at the ground.

 _An earthquake._ Annalise hiked over each soupy, jagged mound of ground, tasting bitter bits of earth as they flew into her mouth. _She wants to bury me alive so I waste time digging myself out._

“Aren’t the storm titans the ones who brought along the first earthquakes?” Annalise panted, zig-zagging her own wand to raise a ring of orange flames from the revealed dry patches of bedrock. The mud was baked into fragile brick that crumbled underfoot after she vaulted back onto solid ground.

“Along with the first flood, showers, and hurricanes!” The briny odor of sea spray filled her nose. Ophisa was wrapped in a white turning jet of water. It roped her in and struck her cheeks like a cruel backhand. Annalise ducked, feet sinking into the puddles. Her bangs stuck down past her brows, heavy and cold in the pouring rain.

 _You can try and blind me, but I can see right through you._ She pulled a well-worn card from her robe pocket and shakily held her wand in the other. It sizzled as water hit the paper. Trying to cast a spell in this weather seemed an impossible task.

Impossible . . .

“She’ll get herself fried alive trying to win! It’s impossible!” An observing student cried, his voice faint, drowned out by the static rush of rainfall.

“Zickwich, drop your wand at once! It’s much too dangerous out here!” The shrill voice of Professor Benwicker shouted. She could see his soaked figure standing safely outside the brick ring of the circle. Behind him stood blurry silhouettes of students who’d quit their duels. She couldn’t make out their faces, but she could feel their gazes on her.

_“Isn’t that Falmea’s best student? Even she can’t beat her?”_

_“Someone needs to pull them out!”_

_“Nobody can-Ophisa’s too powerful for anyone to get near!”_

“No, she’s not!” Annalise screamed back at the voices that weren’t there.

With a rush of sparks, the card jumped from her hand and exploded in the air, falling in burnt scraps. The magic set free shielded her from Ophisa’s abrasive whirlpool in a sizzle of white steam.

For the first time since leaving the classroom, Annalise felt warmth, safe in the wall she put up. She heard Ophisa snarling as she tried to move closer but _couldn’t,_ because- _I’m untouchable. Nobody here is better than me, not even a mighty diviner._

Annalise took a deep breath and let the flames recede a sliver.

For one fleeting, peaceful moment, Ophisa and Annalise stared at each other through breaks in the flames. Her forehead was glossy with steam and sweat, and her shiny raven-black curls began to fray and knot. Annalise would- _could_ never forget the wide whites of her eyes, the blinding white strands of soaked silver coiled hair-

The white grin that suddenly spread across her face.

The fire of confidence that she’d fed a moment ago was snuffed out. _Why did she smile?_ A terrified, heavy hollowness bore into her chest. She stumbled back on her heels, sinking in the mud. The flames spiked up towards the dark sky above. _I’m safe here,_ she insisted to herself, wrapping herself in a strong embrace that was-

 _Too hot._ The flames began to lick her wrists, razors searing the skin mercilessly. _It’s too hot!_ She screamed in white-hot agony, paralyzed as it clawed deep down her embering robes and through her body. _Too hot, almost like-_

Lightning.

A white bolt of lightning struck across her shoulders. She painfully stretched her gaze upwards;

Above her, as if riding on a cloud, Ophisa brough down crash after crash of lightning with sharp jolts of her wand. The amethyst gem had shattered into a deadly point. She was soaked from head to toe, a specter looming overhead. Elaborate handmade spell cards that weren’t needed anymore flew from her hip.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, agreeing with me back there!” Her voice rose up and down in ticks. “You thought you could beat me by playing hero and standing up to the _big-bad_ storm witch?”

A torrent of water wrapped itself around Annalise’s tender trembling ankles. She winced as she was lifted off the charred ground, tears disguised by raindrops. Through the pain, she opened her mouth to speak.

“I _can_ beat you! You’re nothing but smack-talk and arrogance! Everything I do is more careful and precise than you could ever hope to be!” The wind began to howl so strongly she could barely hear herself.

“I am Annalise Zickwich, and I am the most powerful witch at this school!”

Through her closed lids, she saw one final burst of light before the water holding her up evaporated. Annalise hit the ground and couldn’t tell the difference between a new blooming bruise and a burn. She couldn’t see Ophisa anymore. Her vision was washed over by the white flames that enveloped her. All around her, cries of shouts to “Stop!” echoed in her ears.

And above it all, a laugh. Not one dripping with malice or cockiness, but with exasperation.

Then, a sheet of water burst over her entire body, extinguishing everything. Annalise laid on her aching back, taking shallow breaths. Every part of her felt numb after being submerged, burned, and drenched again.

Ophisa stalked up to her, looking down with a pitiful smile. Her knees and arms shook with charged magic as she knelt down beside her.

“I couldn’t stand to watch you burn yourself alive.” She said softly, before her face shifted with a smirk. “Not when hiding behind that fiery façade is nothing more than a whiny, desperate _brat_ who can’t bear to be second-best.”

Ophisa leaned in. A shock of fleeting energy connected them both for but a moment. 

“You _lost.”_

It was the last thing Annalise heard before their destroyed vivid grey battleground turned to black.

“Dominique, back off this instant!”

Annalise saw the world reappear before her. Pebbles and blades of grass crunched between her teeth. She was still in the arena and couldn’t have been unconscious for more than a minute. She tried to push herself of the ground, to sit up, to not give into defeat. The burns and bruises were still there. She collapsed, shivering helplessly in the mud.

Annalise looked up to the sky as the frantic feet of teachers rushed into the circle. Their voices sounded far away like they were still on the other side of the battlefield. Professor Benwicker was scolding Ophisa in deep disappointment.

“You are not to bring your opponent to the brink of death at this academy!”

Two pairs of cold arms grabbed her from the rubble; older students who she bet were helping her out of pity.

“I did not, Professor. _She_ was the one who let her own wildfire consume her!”

“No,” Annalise breathed, shrugging the strangers off. Humiliated by their concerned expressions, she turned away. “I-I can walk on my own.”

She trudged between them, seeing the stone steps at the entrance back into the school. The theurgist girl from earlier was standing at the ready, cards of healing spells in hand. _Where are my cards?_ She wondered, placing her hands over her robe pockets. Empty. She turned over her shoulder, seeing pathetic scraps of wet parchment strewn across the grass.

The other teachers stood by, where everyone else had gathered under the wide awning. The sight of such an interesting duel was too intriguing a sight for them to focus on shooing the students back to their classrooms.

Professor Kusobana, the balance teacher, spoke for the first time since greeting the other faculty members at the start of the dole.

“Dominique should’ve been more empathetic instead of feeding the fire.”

“Yes, but you cannot deny that her skill and power is simply tremendous.” Professor Drake curtly replied. “The ugly circumstances she presented in do not undercut her performance.”

“The worst wizards are those who cage themselves in the shadows of their own heart,” Kusobana quoted, before turning to the pyromancy teacher. “It would seem that your best student has some, to put it simply, _issues_ , to work out, Dalia.”

 _No, don’t talk about me that way._ Annalise hung her head in shame, unable to look her mentor in the eye. _You can’t see me._ She picked up her pace, wanting to get away from their judgmental line of sight.

“I could’ve never imagined her losing control like that.” Madame Falmea tutted. “Her passion was imminent. It seems that she brought something personal onto the battlefield.”

“While I acknowledge Miss Annalise’s spark of emotion as valid, I’m afraid there’s no place for personal grudges in what’s supposed to be a controlled environment for learning,” stated Baelstrom, impatiently tapping his webbed foot as Annalise limped back inside.

“She said it herself, correct? This was meant to be a ‘learning’ experience, was it not?” Professor Drake chuckled. “Zickwich will get over this silly blow to her ego with time.” He turned towards Annalise, who sulked inside through the double oak doors, the sympathetic theurgist girl escorting her to Nurse Folette’s office.

“Or, she will let it define her, and then, she’ll truly become one of the worst students at this school.”

The walk to Nurse Folette’s office couldn’t have felt longer.

As students were redirected to their previous classes to spend the remainder of the day, Annalise wished she could pull out a cloaking spell, a shadow mist, _anything_ to hide her from the judgmental gaze that everyone who’d witnessed her defeat seemed to cast.

Chins turned to each other when she dragged by across the slippery tile floor. Mouths open wide with bemusement, surprise, and pinched concern followed her down the corridor. But not a single one trembling with fear for her. Only pity.

Anger burned inside her from the charred bottom of her heart. She wanted to snuff out every candle illuminating the hallway and scorch the faces of those who dared to poke their heads out of each classroom she passed.

“Looks like Annalise couldn’t handle the heat or weather the storm!”

“Imagine that-nearly self-immolating all because you wanted to win a losing battle.”

“She should’ve known better.”

“Should’ve _done_ better!”

“She couldn’t have. She was doomed from the moment she stepped into the arena.

Annalise broke into a sprint, ignoring the pleas of the theurgist behind her.

“Zickwich never had a chance to begin with. She would’ve been better off fleeing.”

“Look, here she comes now!”

She rounded the corner and couldn’t dash any longer. There was no more fight left in her, nothing left to give. She was alone the narrow hall right outside the infirmary. A wide window let in nothing but shadows.

This wasn’t where her afternoon was supposed to end; not in this dank, grey hallway, alone except for the voices in her head of those who shamed her relentlessly. She was supposed to be surrounded by her friends, telling her what a good job she did on the battlefield, and how she rightfully asserted her name as the best witch at Ravenwood. Praising her. Exalting her.

The rain continued to fall outside.

Annalise stood still and turned to her reflection in the glass pane. Her image was blurred by the hunched tree outside, brought down by the wind and water. Just like her.

She didn’t notice the fresh burns covering her body, or the new black patches and tears in her clothes, but rather, what wasn’t there. Gone was the fire in her watery eyes and the smile on her cheeks. She was unrecognizable. The extraordinary Annalise Zickwich was nowhere to be found. In her place was a poor, pathetic pyromancer who tried to prove herself powerful and _failed._

Pitter, patter, the rain fell.

And from that fateful day forward, Annalise would never forget the storm. The storm when lightning struck twice.

“You swear, then, Ophisa, that you did not cause Annalise to nealy self-immolate in today’s dole?”

“I swear on the swirl of the Spiral.”

Professor Baelstrom clapped his hands together, solemn face lifting. “Splendid! I’m terribly sorry to have kept you here, but rules are rules.” He swiveled around in his chair and sprang out from behind the desk. “Now I can report back to Headmaster Firehammer about that _electrifying_ duel. You’re free to leave.” He waved happily to the scene outside the classroom windows. “Enjoy this weather while it lasts! Splash in the puddles and make new discoveries!”

“I think I’ve had enough rain for today, actually.” She grabbed her ebony wool cloak from its brass hook beside the door. “Take care! Have fun splashing in the puddles.”

Stepping outside the storm house, Ophisa began towards the diviners’ dormitory, doing her best to avoid scratching the heels of her boots on the uneven cobblestone path. The downpour seemed to have lightened up, but the air was still thick and humid in her lungs, charged with energy. The fresh scent of dewy grass filled her nose. Few others were outside; the entrance to Bartleby’s sanctuary looked empty, and the ambient sound of rustling leaves was only interrupted by the _clip-clop_ of heavy steps behind her.

“Hey, wait up!”

She spun around. Standing there was the Theurgist from earlier, who’d escorted Annalise to Nurse Folette’s office after their duel. Her mint dwarven hat lay limpy on her head, and her breath came out in short pants.

“You’re Ophisa, right? Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Of course.” She cast the same repelling spell over her. The girl smiled when she saw the raindrops sliding off her clothes. “Saves you from catching a cold.” Ophisa chuckled. “You were in the circle beside me from today’s dole! What’s your name?”

“Joelle, but you can call me Jo.”

“Nice to meet you, Jo.” They started circling the pavement outside the Sanctuary. “You mind walking in the rain with me?”

“Not at all.” Jo replied, joining her side. “Speaking of . . . what in the world happened back there?”

Ophisa burst into laughter. Jo awkwardly chuckled, wondering if she should’ve been less blunt. She was talking to the top diviner at their school, for goodness’s sake!

“I’m-I’m sorry, it’s probably old news by now-”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. It’s just that I got out of Baelstrom’s a few seconds ago-he asked me the same thing.” Ophisa sighed. “To be honest, I want to know what was going on in Annalise’s head.” Remembering who Jo was, her face fell. “How is she, by the way? You were the one who brought her to Folette, right?”

“Yeah, um, she had some burns and bruises, easy for the other theurgists to patch up. Her feelings were hurt more than anything else.” Then, her face pinched up. “Wait, you didn’t answer my question.”

“’Cause I don’t know what I did back there myself.” Ophisa sheepishly admitted.

“Huh? No way, your strategy and letting herself burn, and the whirpool you made and-”

“That’s all the technical stuff. Any diviner could do that.” She interrupted. “I meant what I said. To her, while we were dueling.”

“No one could hear you guys,” Jo explained. “We saw your mouths moving, and Professor Benwicker kept telling you to stop, because he thought you were, I don’t know, putting her down or something.”

“Well . . .”

“No way, were you actually?” Joelle looked at her with disbelief. “You couldn’t have been. You’re snarky, but you aren’t, like, mean for real.”

“You should’ve been up there.” Ophisa replied with a heavy sigh. “What happened back there was ugly, but I just had to, you know?”

“’You just had to’ what?”

“Tell her she was hurting on the inside. That she was just trying to act all tough to protect herself.”

Jo didn’t say anything. A shameful silence fell between them. She thought that Ophisa and Annalise were having fun when they said they wanted to duel, and that something horrible had happened between when they stepped into the circle and when they were both dragged off. Ophisa and Annalise weren’t friends, by any means, but surely they weren’t arch nemeses?

“. . .You two don’t hate each other, do you?”

“What? I don’t _hate_ her.” Ophisa shook her head. “I don’t care enough to. I just-I wanted to help her, but I got carried away and ended up looking like . . .”

“Like the bad guy.”

“Yeah, like the bad guy.”

Jo realized they were in front of the doors to the diviners’ dormitory. A warm glow came from the windows, and the weight of her cap on her head made Jo realize the repellent spell Ophisa cast had worn off some time ago.

“. . .Why?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why did you do it? If you really knew she was dueling for the wrong reasons, why didn’t you flee and call it off? Why did you wait until she’d nearly burned herself alive to tell her?”

“Because . . .” Ophisa started up the stone steps. Then she turned around.

“Because I’m Ophisa Dominique, and I’m the most empathetic witch at this school.”

With that, she slipped through the soaked doors, and vanished, as fast as lightning.


End file.
